


Late

by MagicRobot



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 15:37:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicRobot/pseuds/MagicRobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Krok fetches Spinister for the evening re-fuel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late

**Author's Note:**

> Written for lexigayarts on tumblr

Krok entered the area of the ship generally considered the “med-bay." Like the rest of the W.A.P., it was old looking and rust and grime was caked against the walls. An actual medic would cringe to work in such a space, but it served their means well.

He looked around the place, spotting Spinister across the room. The other Scavenger was busying himself with cleaning some of the broken tools that they had managed to locate. His digits were nimble and dexterous around the crafted metal as he worked, and Krok took a moment to admire them. Despite all of Spinister’s faults, there was no denying that he was talented with his servos.

Suddenly, he paused, pushing his tools to the side as he reached for his rifle, laying not too far away from him. “Who’s there?"

"It’s just me, Spinister, no need to get so panicky," said Krok, moving closer to the surgeon. Spinister turned, the rifle clutched tightly in his servo as he pointed the muzzle at Krok. The other merely held up his hands in a placating gesture, not at all bothered by Spinister’s reaction.

Spinister reset his optics as he met Krok’s gaze, slowly lowering the rifle to his side. “Sorry. Thought you were here to kill me."

Krok shook head, lowering his arms. “I’m here to fetch you for re-fueling time. You’re late and everyone else is waiting for you."

Dropping the rifle from his servos, Spinister sighed air from his vents before standing. “Must have lost track of the time."

"It’s alright," said Krok, spinning on his heel and leading the way to their make-shift mess hall.


End file.
